Otherside
by Annabel Lee13
Summary: This is a Hiddleston fic. Mr Hiddles found himself a nice girl to be with. She comes from another country, and now they are visiting her parents. It's time he finds out who she really is. And which rules may apply when it comes to survival. Rated MA for adult themes. AU Actor!Tom x Original Character
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- Land ahoy

After what seemed a lifetime of living in the island of Great Britain, she heard her mother tongue spoken loud and clear from the airport speakers, something that made her cringe and die a little inside. Not a typical reaction to expect from anyone, going back home to one's parents whom one hasn't seen for quite some time now. She stepped out of the airport dragging her bag, a man next to her. The automatic doors opened and a wave of heat hit her right in the face, suffocating her. She took back a step, as if she was afraid of the stillness of the air. He stopped and turned to look at her.

"It's so hot!" he exclaimed joyfully. "How do you feel?" he asked, putting his hand on his face, blocking the sun.

"It is hot." She stated. She already felt sweaty and disgusted, but he didn't need to know. _It's only for a couple of weeks. Only a couple of weeks._ That was her mantra, which was going to help her survive this trip. _This, is a necessary evil_, she told herself again, and turned to look at him. She gained strength from his image. "Ok, let's go. We have a long way ahead of us." They held hands and made their way.

They had planned this trip, a week prior their arrival. The places they'd go, how long they were to stay in each place, who they had to visit and so on. She was only going back because there was an important wedding she needed to attend and this-according to her mum-was the perfect opportunity for a short vacation for her, and for the family to meet that mysterious man. Her heart was skipping a bit every time she thought of that. They were together for almost a year now, and her family was completely left out of this. He was only introduced to them by seeing their pictures, once or twice. She avoided talking about them. It felt strange. On the contrary, she loves his parents. Every time his mother was inviting them over for dinner she couldn't be happier. She loved his mother. His father as well, although they couldn't spend so much time together. Being a child in a divorced family meant not only you had to divide your time, but your parents had to make time for you also. It was hard, but not climbing-a-mountain hard.

"Should we take a taxi for the train station?" he asked her.

"Yes, that would be great." She was still lost in her thoughts. But his voice made her realize that they were in her territory now, and she should handle things now. He shouldn't struggle to understand her country's system from that early on.

"You know what, I'll take it from here. I see things haven't changed much since I left." She motioned him to follow her. They found a taxi, loaded the things and asked him to get them to the train station. The taxi driver asked in English "Are you here for vacation?" looking through the rearview mirror, trying to start a conversation. _Typical, _she thought. They motioned yes. "I hope you enjoy Greece. This in the best time for holiday, the weather is perfect." It was 35 degrees Celsius outside.

"My girlfriend is actually Greek" he said proudly and held her hand. She smiled at him, but in reality wanted to slap him in silence. _Here we go._

"You're Greek miss?" the taxi driver asked aghast.

She answered positive in Greek. Then the whole conversation continued in her mother tongue, leaving him outside of it. He knew some Greek form university, but they were mostly the ancient types, so he couldn't really follow their fast pace. He didn't mind though; he loved hearing her speaking it. They sounded so magical in his ears. He was even urging her to speak it to him back home sometimes, so he wouldn't forget what he spend four years of his life studying. He especially liked it when she randomly cursed in Greek when something wasn't going her way. He picked up a few of those words as well.

The taxi driver asked her about him. Yes, he was her boyfriend. Yes, he was English. No, she didn't find any Greek guys in London. Yes, she knew there are many, but she stumbled onto him. Yes, she was working there. No, not anywhere he would know, it was a private firm. Yes, they had the same job; almost. They are in the same field, so they met in work. No, not the same, but… She figured what the hell, and just said it. She was a production assistant, and he was an actor. Yes, they are here to visit her parents. The driver's face seemed like he knew exactly what she was getting into. He looked at her with that face that said '_poor people your parents, meeting not only a stranger, but one of them actors as well.'_ A typical Greek such as himself, with a moustache and a beer belly-as she liked to categorize them- was aware of how parents received foreign grooms. That's what they all called them. Married or not, if you were to introduce your foreign boyfriend to your parents, he was your husband and would remain so in their eyes, until informed otherwise. She didn't know if this was a national joke, or just a threat disguised as a joke.

It was a long drive. The taxi driver, Mr. Panos, continued with his questions. He felt inclined to inform her about what was happening since she left. She assured him, she was keeping track of the situation via internet and phone calls with her friends, but no; he had to tell her the hard truth as lived by the everyday people. _So I see nothing changed much._ Occasionally she would translate to her boyfriend what he was talking about so he wouldn't feel too much left out. He tired her. He talked way too much. She put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, letting him do the talking on his own. She didn't care if she was being impolite, she felt drained. He was caressing her arms and occasionally agreeing with what Mr. Panos was saying, who had now switched to English.

They finally made it to the station. She paid him, thanked him dearly for everything, and wished him a good day, as he drove away. "Ok, let's find our train."

As they entered the building, a cool air hit them on the face. _Bless the air conditioning system._ They both let out a sigh of relief. They walked through the small corridor. There were little shops around them, selling books, magazines, food and water. They reached the platforms entry, and she checked the time tables. Their train was leaving in 45 minutes. Just as she had it planned. They walked up to the platform and sat down.

"Are you tired love?" he said and placed his hand on her leg.

She smiled at him. The bastard! He looked beautiful for a person travelling for so many hours.

"I am." She said with certainty. "I'm also a little anxious" she confessed, scratching the inside of her palms with her nails.

"Darling you shouldn't. If anything, I should be feeling anxious not you. You're going home." That was exactly what she was afraid of.

"I think you're not grasping the importance of this situation" she looked at him concerned. "You haven't met my family yet." She stated coldly.

"So what? I'm sure they'll be wonderful people. Just like you." That made her laugh. He thought he took some anxiety off of her, but in reality she found it funny. She was the complete opposite of what her family was. At some point it even made her question if she was maybe adopted. She wasn't; plenty of witnesses to disprove her hypothesis. Changing the subject, they spend the rest their time talking about weather differences.

When they got on the train, he motioned for him to sit by the window, so he could have a better look. He assured him that she didn't mind, and that she remembered the ride like it was yesterday; which was true. Sometimes, she would even dream it; just the green and the mountains. Not that she consciously missed them, but her subconscious had a weird way of reminding her where she came from.

The trip was quiet. For a tourist season, the train only had local people. Some faces looked familiar to her; distant, as if from a dream. He, on the other hand, was in ecstasy. They both loved travelling by train, but his joy was coming from finally visiting Greece. Having studied a lot about this place, made him feel a geeky joy inside, she knew about. She felt the same way when they visited the museums back home. He didn't stop asking questions. Where are we now, what does this name mean? Oh it comes from that particular ancient Greek word, which he knew and felt inclined to analyze its roots to get to the meaning. That last one was actually a shared feature. They both loved arguing about word roots from dead languages. After some time, the tiredness got her, and leaned back on her chair, closing her eyes. He had his eyes glued to the window, looking and observing. It made her happy that he was happy.

Trying to relax behind closed eyes, she let her mind travel back, and saw in flashing images the decisions that lead her here. That email from her best friend, whom she hadn't seen for quite some years, that was saying she was getting married. She had to be there. There was no other option she could consider. She wanted to be there. She missed her friend. So they discussed about it. Fortunately enough, his schedule was empty for the next month. It was his time off between projects. He planned spending most of it home with her, and then do some work related travelling, but when this opportunity arose, he didn't even have to think twice. He wanted it. He wanted to visit this country for so long and mostly now that they were together. Just like she wanted to see the places he grew up, it was now his turn to satisfy this curiosity.

He turned his face away from nature, to look at her. She had her eyes closed and she looked peaceful. He touched her hand, and she smiled returning the gesture. She opened her eyes to see him. The sun was casting some rays between the two sides of his face and he looked like he was coming out of a renascence painting. His image calmed her soul. Under the sun his eyes looked bigger and brighter, a mixture of green and blue, his skin was brownish-contrary to her paleness-and his hair seemed fairer.

"The sun is making you look like an angel out of a renascence painting." She smiled.

"And here I was thinking you looked like the sleeping beauty, and I was the demon over your shoulder devilishly and cunning observing you, coveting you to be mine." He was so goddamn eloquent sometimes. _Tom Hiddleston; actor, dancer, philosopher, smoother than a baby's bottom._ She smiled at her inner thought. "Let's just say that we are both disguised demons seeking the destruction of the world" she sighed, kissing his hand, and closed her eyes.

"Here" he said and took her in his arms "Sleep in my lap." He took her in his embrace.

"That's kind of impossible, because the way they announce the stops here, is enough to cause you a heart-attack" she yawned in his chest. She was out within minutes. He liked holding her while she slept. From what he knew of her past, sleep was very important to her. She used to suffer from insomnia, so every time he saw her sleeping peacefully, he was feeling happy for her. She was very important to him.

He never thought he could find a person such as herself, but there she was, fast asleep in his lap. They were quite the opposite characters; he is very open as a person, she is quite shy. He likes to talk; she's more of the listening type. He's outdoorsy, enjoys the sun and swimming in the sea. She can't go near it. She prefers a cottage in the countryside, where there's tall trees and green as far as the eye can see. She's a house cat. He is too, but not in her degree. He's a people person; sometimes she wants to commit genocide. He loved and admired her culture; she thought that after one point there was nothing to be proud of. But they had their common ground; the pieces of the puzzle that stuck together. Their love for the arts; especially French cinema. Even if she didn't understand a word of French, she loved hearing him talk. The same way he loved hearing her speaking Greek and Spanish. They both stressed-cooked, so there was always something to nibble at in either one's home. The fact that they both loved sitting down to watch a Disney movie and sing along to their favourite songs. She wasn't much of a dancer, but she enjoyed when he offered his hand and swept her into his crazy rhythm. He loved that she danced with him and only him; even if in the beginning she stepped on his feet. He was stupidly optimistic, always happy and smiling, had the perspective of a realist. She was a dreamer, a hopeless romantic, a brooding Adam. There were times when she was falling in the rabbit hole for weeks and couldn't get out. She was a difficult person and had many problems she hadn't told him about. He needn't know. But her determination to become friends when she found out they had common friends, brought them together. His curiosity to find out more about her, led to them being together now for almost one year. She didn't complain when he had to be away for work, and hated drawing attention to herself in public. His public life was his own, but his private was shared with hers. They both enjoyed immensely their little secret.

He was thinking all their shared life so far, as he held her asleep in his arms. She had become very important to him. It was as if she could read his mind sometimes and knew exactly what to say or how to behave. He thought of their differences. It wasn't sitting well to him that such a nice girl as herself was keeping close to herself and was so unhappy. When he used to think about how he'd like his girl to be, she was always happy and smiley. His girl was; his Persephone was happy and smiley. But sometimes it pained him to see her uneasy and anxious; like she was carrying the ancient secret of the world all by herself. But he'd be damned if she wasn't the girl that made him feel that this was right. That most of the pieces actually fit. Maybe he should stop looking. He wasn't getting any younger either. Now that he was meeting her parents, it kind of made it more official. He signed and looked out the window. He would think about it later. Now, all it mattered was for her to feel okay. She looked so fragile in his arms. He realized then, that the more he talked and she listened, he didn't really know everything about her. Contrary to her, he was at a disadvantage. Maybe this trip would help him see inside of her.

She sighed in her sleep and her breasts went up, brushing his hand. He remembered their nights together and looked at her with lustful thoughts in his mind. He hoped they could get some time alone, because suddenly he missed her.

They got off the train, the bags feeling heavy on their relaxed muscles. "My dad should be somewhere around here…" her eyes roaming, searching for the familiar face amongst other people. She spotted him. As if not one day had passed, he was there, behind the open door of the driver's seat in the car-on the left side now of course- his hand on his face, blocking the sun, searching for her. "I found him." She almost said 'follow me' but instead turned and faced him. "Are you ready?" she anxiously asked him. That question would be more appropriately addressed to her subconscious, than him.

"More than I'll ever be" he reassured her with a smile, taking her hand. She exhaled a breath that was caught in her throat. That's what she wanted to hear. Hand in hand now, rolling their cases with the free arms, made their way slowly to the car. When they got away from the crowd, she stopped, raised her arm and smiled at her anxious father. He raised his hand and practically ran towards her. She felt her heartbeats accelerating, and her stomach turning and twisting into a knot. She let go of Tom's hand without thinking, her suitcase fell to the ground and in a few long steps was in his embrace. He still smelled like musky strong lavender. She wanted to cry, but controlled herself. She actually missed him. Tom followed her, approaching slowly.

They kissed and hugged again. He looked exactly the same; only more tired. She took a step back and introduced them in Greek. Her father didn't speak any English, which in this case was in her favour. They shook hands. Her father's fist seemed strong. Their handshake lasted for ages in her eyes. Tom didn't lose time, and practiced the phrases they had rehearsed back home; 'hello sir, very happy to meet you, my name is Tom'. He couldn't stop smiling, while her dad was measuring him from top to bottom with just his eyes, which seemed not moving; but she knew better. They packed the bags and headed home.

The ride was a little awkward. She had to speak full sentences in Greek again and it sounded so strange to her ears. She hadn't forgotten her mother tongue, that would be preposterous; but the sounds she made weren't familiar to her ears just yet. Her dad was polite enough not to ask anything about him just yet. That meant that either he would later, or he'd make mum ask for him as well. She did miss them. She just didn't miss the person she was, when coming back home. She kept squeezing Tom's hand without realizing it. He just stood in silence, looking out the window, listening to their words, trying to make out most of it. He did sense her anxiousness, but didn't say so. He figured, he should observe her first, ask his questions later. Now, he knew he had to be as condescending she was to him when he was leaving her, flying off across the world to work.

Before they left home, she warned him; she used to live in a small town, which she described as 'living at the edge of the map.' It was her dad's birthing place, and he lived there since he was born, and refused to go. So her mother moved in with him. She was a police officer; a very fierce woman. Her father was a farmer; a very outgoing, loud, short-tempered, yet sensitive man. Practically everyone in her family was overflowing with confidence, except her. The drive from the city, where the train left them, to her home in the town, was ten minutes by car. Her time was now up. They got out of the car, and she silently prayed to God for a smooth, trouble-less stay.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Cyanide for lunch, anyone?

They were just in time for lunch. Green, red, brown, white, and yellow, were lighting up the blue table cloth, making safely closed memories resurface. She felt her mouth water dangerously. He was aghast. Her mother had already squeezed the life out of them both, crying tears of happiness, never breaking her grin. Persephone wondered if her face ever got tired from smiling. Her mother's pride and nostalgia were showing off in her kitchen. Taking the morning off, she had managed to prepare food for a whole army again. And of course she hasn't stopped talking. Her mother knew how to speak English well and immediately started ranting about everything and nothing to Tom. He, of course, was over the moon, enthusiastically participating, making jokes, and compliments. She clenched her fists.

Persephone crawled slowly to the back of the room like a heel, and went to see her old room. It was the biggest room in the house, so it would fit her and her sister. There were still clothes thrown on her sister's bed, stuff spread on their desks, the curtains dancing in front of the open window. _As if not one day had passed._ She heard the door. _Are we waiting for more people?_ Her heart stopped and she felt a cold sweat on her forehead. She ran down the corridor. A figure in white was shaking hands with Tom. "Irene?"

"Hey dude!" the female figure exclaimed and threw her arms in the air. They hugged.

"So this is your sister huh?" Tom smiled. "I've heard so much about you. She always praises your cooking back home." Her sister was a chef.

"She better be!" she fake-threatened her, pointing a finger at her.

"I thought you were… away" Persephone said. She couldn't keep track of how often her sister moved around.

"Yeah I am. Thessaloniki." _Yes, that's right. _Persie mentally slapped her head. "I keep coming back every summer. The hotel in the city is paying me better. It's good money. Plus I don't spend anything here." She said and picked up a tomato out of the salad. He mother smacked her hand. "Shame Irene! And to think you're a chef."

"What, my hands are clean!" she shouted. "So," she continued "you're here for Margaret's wedding." Persie nodded. "How do you find Greece so far, Tom?" she asked, all canny.

He broke into a huge smile. "It's fantastic so far! I haven't seen much, but the view from the airplane was breathtaking. And the train journey from where we landed….um…The….Thess…. the place you work."

"Thessaloniki" Persie helped him.

"Yes! Thessaloniki! Such a long name. Anyway, the journey through the woods, and all that green! Amazing! Such vibrant colours. It was very hot in the city though. How much was it?" he turned to her. "Thirty three, thirty two degrees?"

"Thirty five" she said and sat on the sofa. The dining table was in the kitchen, which was connected with the living room, but also separated through an opening that had little saloon doors, as she liked to call them. Courtesy of her dad, who was lying in the other sofa, waiting for the table to be set.

"Your mother prepared so much food again" he said staring at the television. She copied his posture and relaxed her body.

"What are you watching?" she asked lazily.

"Nothing much. Just a nature documentary." Silence.

"How's the farm?" she asked.

"Same old. We got some pigs a couple of months ago... "

"Oh that's nice..." She rubbed her eye.

"How's work?" he asked without breaking his gaze from the screen.

"It's great." She said; her eyes fixed on the dog behind the glass, sniffing the wet ground. "I like it a lot there, it's exactly what I wanted."

"Is it?" a tone of mockery and sadness behind his voice. Her father always disapproved of her choice leaving the country, but it had to be done. _It just had to_.

"What is that dog trying to sniff out exactly?" she was very curious.

"Boar tracks. See the footprints on the ground? They're all trying to find a pack." So this was a hunting documentary; not a nature one. She was almost kind of glad nothing had changed around here.

"There you are" Tom's voice echoed in the room. She thought it was coming from her computer, but no, this time it was really him. She turned and saw his grand posture just a few feet away from her. Her soul jumped from joy. Her mother entered behind him.

"Would you look at them!" she squealed. "Like father, like daughter" she remarked. They were sitting the exact same way; relaxed postures, hands on either side with the palms hanging heavy, a pillow on the stomach, legs slightly pulled out of the sofa, looking more like misplaced limps than parts of a human body. Tom was amused to find out from where this particular sitting position came from, and her mother was just happy she was seeing this picture after this long. "Come on, time to eat" she practically yelled and disappeared from the room. Tom sat next to her.

"I'm off to wash my hands." Her dad left the room quicker than you could say hopscotch. He still felt awkward around him. She didn't mind; better for them.

"Your mum is lovely" he said putting his arms around her. She leaned onto him, and took in his scent. He _must_ be crazy, she thought. She didn't care to argue now. She felt at home. Her hands reached his T-shirt and held it tight in her fist. He was touching her hair. The sound of the toilet flushing awoke her.

"We should go to the kitchen" she said reluctantly.

"Yes, we should. I'm so hungry I could eat that whole boar" he said pointing at the screen. She put the TV on mute and they got up.

"When are you going to see Margaret?" her mother asked, after the plates ceased their swirl over the table, changing hands like dancing partners, over the blue patent tablecloth.

"I don't know, I haven't spoken to her yet. I guess I'll call her later." She said and took a bite of bread. It felt like the Gods' food.

"She came at my restaurant" Irene said with a mouthful of meat. "As soon as I got a special order for spaghetti with yoghurt instead of sauce, I knew it was her! I mean, who else eats that?" She said and looked at Persephone out the corner of her eyes.

"Who indeed..." Tom tried very hard not to laugh, remembering the exact night he found her snooping in his kitchen for leftover food, and watched her from the shadows as she made that strange mixture and ate it, in the dark.

"Do you like the food? How does it taste honey?" her mum asked him. He only had a small bite and she was already halfway through her plate.

"It looks incredible!" he said with amazement. He had Greek cuisine before, so he knew it would be mouthwatering.

"Let me put you some more food, you must be hungry from the journey" she said. "I made all this food today, just for you two, I hope you like it," and like a hurricane her hands flew over the potato salad and a bomb of extra food landed on Tom's plate. "Eat up honey, you look like you could use it." He thanked her dearly, always practicing his Greek.

"How does it taste honey? Did you miss it at all?" she asked Persie. She didn't want to cut her wings by saying that, that was what she was eating back home anyway, so she just smiled and said that restaurants make better food than her. Of course her mother got her joke and got up from her seat, kissed her forehead and sat down again. She had missed her daughter's sarcastic replies. Persie felt like she had to answer how much does two plus two make for the millionth time in a row.

Her father was keeping his usual silence, eyeing his plate and eating in silence, her mother started rumbling about God knows what, while she and her sister were having silent eye-to-eye conversations. Everything seemed so strangely familiar; as if revisiting a very old dream.

"So tell me sweetie, how did the two of you meet? My daughter is playing shy and won't tell me a thing. She just keeps saying you work together. I can't tell you how great it is to finally meet a boyfriend. " Her mother started.

"Mum please, let him eat in peace…." Persephone scratched her ear. She really disliked her mother's accent.

"No, it's alright," he said though mouthfuls "don't worry about it." He swallowed his food. "I thought you would have told them" he asked her in disbelief.

"No, my little sunflower is shy. She don't talk much." She continued eating, and stared at Tom.

He left his fork down and proceeded with the story. _Great, now she won't let him eat for God's sake. _Persephone ate nervously from her plate, and then helped herself to some more.

"Can I have some more wine?" her father interrupted. Poor soul, he didn't understand anything at all. Her mother got up to bring the bottle. And her vivacious movement caused a couple of cutlery pieces and some bread to fall on the floor. What followed was something along the lines of "Goddamit woman, why won't you be careful! God gave us eyes to watch, why do you have yours? Jesus, don't you have control over your own hands!?"

Tom got scared. He shrinked in his seat and held to his knife tightly. Her sister laughed. Her mother ignored her father by shushing him with her hand, and brought him his glass and some new cutlery. Persephone was just plain embarrassed and put her hand on her head. She turned to look at Tom. There was confusion and fear in his eyes.

"Oh don't worry" she whispered in his ear. Even though he didn't understand much, he understood the voices. "That's how they always are; loud and destructive, but harmless." She patted his leg from under the table.

"Are you sure?" he asked concerned.

"Absolutely" she said and continued eating. She was used at her father's short temper at situations like this, and didn't even pay attention any more_. Poor Tom_.

Her mother sat down again. "Where were we?" she asked all smiley. Before anyone could talk she broke off in Greek, and had a conversation with her father. He yelled a bit more, she yelled back at him, her sister ate some more, and finally her mother cleaned off a stain from her father's shirt, and kissed him between the lips and the cheek. Tom was mesmerized. Those people were very strange; loud, talkative, and _very _strange. He thought that maybe her father had anger management issues, but no. He looked around. Persie's sister was checking her phone, their parents were in a heated conversation in Greek, and his girl was nibbling at her plate. He felt her discomfort. But all this seemed so funny at him; the fact that her mother was such a talker, contrary to her father who was quiet and stoic, and also didn't like things out of order. The fact that her mother had quite the Mediterranean temperament; olive skin, big brown eyes, loud and authoritative voice, yet very tender to her husband, and proud of her kitchen. This was so out of his league. Yet he enjoyed the culture difference immensely, and as everyone around him was in their own little bubble, he continued eating, never stop observing them all.

Persephone thought of that old saying they had in Greece; when you marry someone, you marry their family as well. She got stressed that Tom might be intimidated by them, that the culture shock would make him reconsider things, that everything were to go to shit, because he was so quiet and his eyes were roaming the room. She couldn't figure out what he was thinking so she assumed, as always, the worst.

After a while, when they all had finished lunch, it was time for life to go on. Her father would return to the farm, to look after his livelihood, her sister would go in her room to relax before heading for work, and her mother would clean the table and do her chores. Tom was feeling thrilled to meet this family's routine, but was careful not to show his excitement, as not to make himself seem nosey. Irene and their mother cleaned up the table, as their father mumbled a goodbye and closed the door behind him.

Persephone took Tom to the living room. Her sister never stopped staring at them like she was Mona Lisa. She and their mother were whispering in the kitchen. Persie put her head under his shoulder, and made herself feel like a small bird under its mother's wing. He caressed her shoulder. "Are you tired?" he whispered. The TV was on the same channel, only now it was showing puppies running around. She was tired of life, at this point. She turned her eyes to the clock; they've only been here for like an hour and a half. _This is going so bad._

"I'm full from the food" she finally said.

"It was delicious. I'm going to congratulate your mother when she comes in." He said enthusiastically. Normally she loved the enthusiasm in his voice. It was one of the reasons she fell for him in the first place. But now, she just wanted to put duct tape all over it. Her mind spiraled to a different scenario involving duct tape and him naked, and smiled cunningly. She sat up and looked him in the eyes. They looked so blue.

"Hey" she said, still smiling.

"Hello" he said, sitting up as well.

"I missed you" she put her hand on his leg.

"I missed you too" he whispered, his pupils dilating, and his hand touching her round cheek. He leaned in to kiss her. She pulled away.

"Not now." She looked sad. She wanted it so bad.

"Are you embarrassed?" he asked, slightly laughing.

She shrugged, and her eyes told him everything. He always said that she had those big, tell-all eyes and could never lie. She let him believe that last part. He scoffed and kissed her forehead. A voice came from the kitchen. It was her mother, dropping a plate and cursing. Irene tried to shush her. Tom looked around in confusion. She told him it was nothing to worry about.

Seconds later her mother came in and looked at them. They were lazily watching TV. "My lad, tell me again your name. I didn't catch it the first time." She definitely had something in her mind that made Persie flinch. It was the truth, which she had sealed under misinformation and badly chewed words about his identity. Ignorant as he was, he said "Tom Hiddleston, m' am."

Her mother's eyes grew large. Irene was telling her the truth. They had some serious conversation coming on. She felt herself wanting to transform into a very big mouth; a mouth with huge lips, like those modern art shows Persie used to drag her around years ago. But instead of being transformed into a mouth filled with endless questions, she smiled and simply said "Well you can call me Sofia, my dear." She looked over at Irene and spoke to her in Greek. She moaned, but their mother's authoritative look made her stop complaining. "Persephone, can you please come and help me in the kitchen with something? Irene will help Tom get your bags to your room." Persie knew that cold, polite smile of her mother's. It meant you're in trouble, but only because you concealed information from her. She hated that word. _Concealed. Like some fucking criminal. _

Still-ignorant-Tom went to help her sister, asking her about her life and career. Persie stepped in the kitchen, with her heart pounding loud in her chest. She was afraid this moment would come, but still hadn't prepared any speech. She would just go with it.

"Can you put in place the plates I'll hand you?" her mother said and took a piece of cloth in her hands. Persie pinched her nose and stood next to her. She felt so small and insignificant beside her. Her mother looked at her and gave her the first plate. She opened the cupboard above the sink and put it in its place. Persephone took pride in herself, in not cracking easily when it came to the silent game. This thing went on for a couple more plates.

"When where you going to tell me?" her mother cracked first.

"Tell you what?" she asked feebly.

"That the man you brought here is…" she was lost for words. _Is what? An actor? Someone famous? A celebrity? A strange foreigner? The man who will take me away from you? Finally something good happening in my life? My future perhaps? What?_ Persie was angry, but nonetheless she waited for her mother to finish. She couldn't, though. She just stood there frozen with the plate on her hand, staring at her daughter. Angry, confused, sad, bitter, she stood there not believing her daughter would just lie to her. Persie stayed silent, turning her back to her mother, pretending to clean.

"Don't you go anywhere!" Her mother shouted.

"I'm not!" Her thing of making fast assumptions annoyed the hell out of her. "I'm just cleaning this."

"Does he love you?" she said suddenly, filling the air with a cold that chilled Persephone's spine. Her breathing stopped, giving way for the clock to be the only sound filling the room.

"What kind of question is that?" she faced her.

"I know you love him. You've never brought someone home, and suddenly you fly back for a wedding and you bring a little souvenir with you. I don't know if you're serious, but if you are, make sure that he loves you and he respects you. You of all people know how these people are" she said in one breath.

"What people?" She felt disgusted by the use of that word.

"Actors. I know how much you love being involved in these things. Even from a little girl you liked reading about them and watching them, but living with them is a completely different thing Persie. They are people with no privacy, and quite unstable. They break up and date whenever they want, whoever they want. Their life is never their own; it's the public's."

"Are you telling me, you disapprove of my career choice?"

"Are you even listening to me? I'm telling you not to trust that man. As soon as a prettier girl shows him some tit he'll be off running behind her ass like a dog in heat."

She was cruel. "So you mean to say, that he stays with me because of what? I provide for him? I give him money? Or rather I spend my money on him? Maybe it's because he's secretly gay and I'm his public wife, and he comes back at my place with strange men while I am alone not looking after my life? You think I'm doing him a favour? Or he's doing me a favour, and when he'll get tired he'll get up one fine morning and never come back?!" She felt the tears coming up to her eyes. She was too brave for this. She threw down the piece of cloth she had twisted in a knot, and left.

"We're not done" her mother yelled. _ I am, _she whispered through clenched teeth, and went to the bathroom. "We have to talk about this with you father" a voice came through the shut door. She fell to the familiar light pink tiles, and let the tear roll down her eye.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Castle Memories

"Let's recap. We've got the lake, the churches, the caves, the castle, some museums, and you definitely want to have lunch near some water, is that correct?" Persephone asked Tom. It was 9ish in the morning, they had finished their yoga routine, showered, and were now all dressed up, sunglasses on, making a list of the places he wanted to visit.

"Yes, that is correct m' am." He said mimicking an officer's voice.

"No, don't…do that" she said. It reminded it of her mother, and that was the last person she wanted to remember now.

"Apologies." He said. He sensed that something went wrong yesterday, but she never let it show, or told him. So he wouldn't bother just yet with it. "Should we go? Do you have everything?"

"Yes" she checked her handbag one last time. "Keys, phone, wallet, map, glasses" she touched the top of her head, "handkerchiefs, comb, lip balm, pen and paper….yes that is all. All set" she smiled at him.

"Do you really need all this?" he asked with the disbelief of a male.

"Tell me one time that you didn't need one of these things." She said with a patronizing look.

"That…." he started "is probably true. So are we good, should we go?"

"Yes, we should otherwise we'll miss the bus." She locked the door behind her and they made their way.

They had agreed not to take the car today, although her father practically gave it away to them, and decided on the bus. That way Tom could see more of the route from her small town to the city. The truth was, she wanted her parents to feel her presence as little as possible. For some reason she didn't feel quite at home yet; never minding the incident with her mother. Also, they both enjoyed using public transport, so that was a plus. They got onboard and sat in the back of the bus, so she could avoid familiar faces, but also because they were travelling incognito. You never know who might recognize him. The last thing they both wanted was a twitter update of when and where Tom went to the bathroom.

The bus was making a lot of stops, so she could point at him were to look and what to see. She showed him all those places she used to go when she lived there. They passed the road she had to walk everyday to and from school. They saw some kids with their schoolbags wandering around, and she told him that they probably were skipping a period to go for a coffee and then back again.

"You can skip, and then go back again?" he asked fascinated.

"Yep" she replied, remembering her own wild days.

"And you did that as well?" he turned to face her.

"Sometimes, yes. Although not too often. I would never hear the end of it from my parents."

"How would they know if you came back after?" he was very curious.

"You get one absence per missing period, so they'd know."

"And where did you go?" he asked.

"Here and there. Sometimes I'd skip gym the last period, others I would go home because it would be empty and I could enjoy some peace and quiet…." She trailed off.

"So you never did anything reckless and teenagery?" His eyes grew large.

She looked around and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Can I tell you a secret?" He nodded. "Sometimes I'd skip class and go to the library." She opened her eyes at him and nodded.

"I can't believe it!" he exclaimed in whispers. "My girl is such a rebel" he said and took her in his hug. They both laughed.

"How about you?" she said holding his hands that were around her shoulder. "Did you ever do anything reckless back at school?"

"Not much…. Just what I've told you about trying to be both in the rugby and the acting team. That's when I pulled some crazy moves and could be qualified as an insane person" he said, his eyes reminiscent of past memories. "Besides, my school was strict. You couldn't just leave to go to a café and come back whenever you felt like it. Now that I think of it, I think you were more of a rebel than I was."

"Un point to me then" she smiled at her failed attempted to speak French to him. It made him laugh, and accept his loss. "Oh look, do you see that statue over there?" She pointed at the grey statue of a stooping woman, carrying firearms under her arms. "Behind the statue, under the marble that helps it stand, the ground is hollow. I dag a hole and I used to hide my sister's things in there." She smiled cunningly and proud for herself.

"What do you mean hide things?" He looked at her through his sunglasses.

"We had this stupid game that every time we played dare, we'd put one of our things as pawn. The person who won, would take the thing for herself, until the person who lost, won again and reclaimed the pawn. Of course I was really sneaky and asked her to pawn things I wanted for myself, and when I won I was smuggling them here and hiding them until she forgot she even had them in the first place. Or, I made her belive she needed something I secretly liked, and when our mum would ask us what we want for a present she always said the thing I told her about. And most of the times I ended up winning it. "

"Fuck me" he said with his mouth hanging open. "I have a criminal for a girlfriend."

She laughed. "I was really sly and tricky as a child." She admitted.

"Are you joking? You were the fucking Godfather of your own mafia clan!" She shrugged innocently. "Yes but, didn't she remember they were hers when you brought them back?"

"She didn't. I am an excellent disguiser" She said proudly.

"Did she ever take anything yours? I mean you must have lost at some point."

"A few times. But it wasn't anything important. I used to have unnecessary stuff on my desk, so she would look at them and ask for them. Only one time she took something important off me." She let her eyes look forward and the memories flooded her mind, like this had happened yesterday. "I was around eight, and she must have been five or six, I don't remember." She turned to him "I had just thought of that game, and like the junkie she was as a child, she got addicted to it and wanted to play it all the time." She turned her head straight again and motioned with her hands "I was reading a book, it was one that explained with pictures, and with really simple words to children, about different mythologies of different people. Like Greco-Roman mythology, Irish, Norse, Chinese and that stuff, and I was so into it, that she couldn't stand seeing me reading and herself just sitting idly on the floor, and convinced me to put it as a pawn-"

"Wait, you knew what a pawn was at 8?"

"I didn't know the word, I just said we put our favourite stuff in front of us and whoever looses gets hers back along with the other one. I had my book with me at the time, and she had her favourite teddy. I thought I'd easily win that teddy for me, so I put the book in front of me. I think I asked her to go and cut a rose from the neighbour's garden. I knew how obsessed she was with her flowers, and I bet on her loosing. But when I lost I wouldn't give it back. I'd say that…. I don't remember exactly what I said, but when I refused to let go of the book she bit the back of my neck." She smiled at the memory and touched that spot.

"So that's what that mark is…" he said putting his hand over hers to touch that area. "It doesn't seem like teeth much though" he said.

"I think she didn't have all of them out yet. That's why it looks like a crescent moon." She brought her hair back in place.

He stood there stunned. "How come you never told me that story?"

She pressed her lips. "It didn't come up I suppose."

"Wow" he exhaled. "I definitely want you to remember more of these stories. They are so entertaining!"

"I'll try, but I can't promise."

"Good enough for me" he said and holding her hand turned to the window. A couple of moments passed when he finally said "I was expecting a bit more green to be honest."

"I know" she sadly agreed. "That's why I enjoy London so much. Even though it's a huge and complicated city, there's always a park around the corner. And the colours are so vibrant and alive! Everything here seems…. dead" she confessed.

"I wouldn't say dead. Just… lacking…"

"Life?" she said.

"Water." He tried to fix it.

"I suppose so. But still, in the cities you rarely find that deep green and yellow you saw up in the mountains."

"Well that was mesmerizing! Do you think we can go up there before we leave?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I think we might be able to find time" He smiled at her.

The rest of the journey was spent pretty much in silence, except from when she pointed things at him to look. They weren't much, in fact they could be classified as unimportant, but he always showed great joy and curiosity each time she turned his attention to a specific road turn or bus stop, and listen carefully. She was confused at his attitude, but she'd be damned if she didn't enjoy it a little.

When they got out of the bus, she allowed herself to breathe deeply. Behind the sunglasses, her closed eyes felt relief filling up her body. She turned to him. "Where do you want to start from?" she smiled. She was herself again. And he sensed it.

He crooked his head. "How about making a circle? From what I remember if we follow the pattern written on the map, we will go up the hill, and then come down we'll have seen pretty much half of the things on the guide. Can I have the map please?" he laid out his hand. She never got tired of admiring his fingers. They always reminded her of work-free afternoons spent listening to him playing the piano. She took it out of her bag and handed it over, brushing his skin. He showed her the route he had in mind and she was more than happy to follow it.

He took her hand, and she gripped his palm tight. It felt as if she hadn't seen him for weeks. Hand in hand, he walked his bouncing strut making her take longer steps, as they made their way into history.

"I am exhausted!" she said as they sat down on their chairs.

The old city was built on the top of the hill, like most cities from ancient times, and half of the roads were uphill; which meant serious bum workout. She felt her legs a little sore, while he was happy as a puppy, which's been given a new toy. They visited most of the museum-churches from the Byzantine Era, a couple of museums which exhibited things from 500-600 BC roughly, and reaching the top, the ruins of the old fortress, which the residents were calling a castle; probably to show off. They decided to sit at a small tavern which was located just outside the castle and offered a breathtaking view of both the ruins and the city with the lake.

"This is such a beautiful view" he said without sitting down. The owners had many tables strategically placed outside the tavern with a big tent covering them, and lots of small lights hanging in the corners, waiting to be lit when the dark shined. He walked around the tables. The tavern was built near the edge of the hill, and he desperately wanted to see the view. He leaned on the balcony and looked ahead. All that history, the old-as-time stones, the rocky ground he stepped on, all these things he had seen made him feel alive and simultaneously old as time itself. For some reason he reminded her of Simba the lion, when he was young.

"Come here" he said bouncing from joy. He practically dragged her out of the chair, bringing her at the edge of the hill. He knew she was afraid of heights, but pulled her lightly towards him, two steps away from what she called a terrifying cliff. "I need to photograph this. Us." He said. She felt like a million butterflies were set free from inside of her, yet still somehow they were all trapped in there, making her feel fuzzy and idiotic. She grinned, bowing her head and made those two steps closer to him. "Don't worry" he said "I'll hold you," and smiled. It was so simple, what he just said, yet exactly what the butterflies needed to hear to be completely free. That half step she took, felt like literally flying into his arms; grabbing his T-shirt tight, she leaned her head on his chest. He nuzzled on top of her hair and they stayed like this for a few seconds; just looking at the green downhill leading to a calm rocky greenish waterfront. She almost wished he wouldn't take the picture, and would just stay there until their legs became so tired, nothing could keep them standing up. But she wanted to remember that moment, how the sunrays hit his face and made him look like an elated child. She brought her hand over his chest and felt his beating heart. She found it quite fast and smiled.

"Will you take the damn picture?" she teased him. He chuckled.

"Alright, alright Panda Bear I will" he teased her back. Sometimes he would call her Panda Bear on the excuse of her being as adorable as them. But really she just reminded him of one the first morning they woke up together. The dark rings under her eyes against her creamy skin made such contrast that upon looking at her, all he could see was that.

He took the phone out of his pocket and brought it in front of their faces. "I thought you wanted the view as well" she said. The only view this way was the tavern tables.

"I didn't say we'd only take one picture" he smiled cunningly and pressed the button. He captured exactly what he wanted; his proud smiley face, and her so-done-with-your-bullshit face, which he adored, because he found hilarious.

"Seriously?" she asked full of sass.

"What?" he said shrugging his shoulders as if nothing had happened. His grin said otherwise. "Now turn the other way, we should try and get the lake" he said and put his hands on her waist, twisting her like a flamenco dancer. She smiled. Without missing a bit, he snapped a photo. "Great" he announced proudly.

"Uh-uh" she said. "One more. Try and make it more professional this time" She proceeded on fixing her hair. He would just snap photos of her trying to stop him, and him making silly faces. She knew it was worthless to try and stop him, so she just continued making silly model poses. He laughed out loud. When she rolled her eyes at him, he knew she had enough.

"Ok," he said "let's take that damn photo already."

"About time" she said with a fake-authoritative voice.

He put his hand around her waist, and brought her closer to his body. She took a deep breath, breathing him in, relaxing her muscles. She leaned her head inwards, and he put his hand on her shoulder. They both had sunglasses, but you could see calmness written all over their face. He simply kept smiling and held her closer. Looking at his hand, he picked the right angle, and pressed the button while kissing her hair. He pulled the phone down and hugged her with both hands. She lost her tiny self in his enormous arms. After a few seconds she simply said "I have to pee now" in which he laughed clearly amused by that comment, and let her go. She went inside, while he sat on the dirt and continued enjoying the view. When he turned around, she was already sitting at their table. They were still the only people up there.

"This is marvelous! Almost spine-tingling!" he exclaimed as he dragged the chair opposite her and sat down.

"I am glad you like it" she smiled. Her weariness was hiding behind her sunglasses. "I ordered some water" she motioned her hand at the back, showing him the waiter. "He's gonna come with the menu in a little while I presume."

"Brilliant! I am starving" he said and smiled back. He took her hands in his, and squeezed them gently. He looked away at the sky. "This place…." He trailed off. The sky was clear from clouds, and had the most transparent hue of blue he's seen in a while. Luminous, like seeing the bottom of the sea on a clear day, when the sun hits the rocks and you see everything crystal clear in shallow azure waters. The waiter interrupted his thoughts. He was so glad to see him, he greeted him in Greek. Persephone chuckled amusingly.

Tom proceeded speaking in Greek, saying he would like to order himself, in Greek as well. Persephone sat back with a smug smile on her face. _This is going to be fun, _she thought_. _Tom took the catalogue and flipped it open to the menu written in Greek. The waiter went to help him, but he politely said he was fine. He was feeling confident, and skimmed through the catalogue. He found it wasn't difficult to read, it just took some time for him to remember which words were equivalent in English. But he didn't despair, much to her wishes.

Persephone politely asked the waiter, between smiles, to come back in a few minutes, but Tom stopped her. When she wanted to be pushy, she was a real pain in the ass. But he knew she was only doing so to piss him off. Well, she should prepare for some major disappointment, because he announced he was ready to order. He sat up, pushed his shoulders back and looked at her while speaking, slow yet clearly ,and in flawless grammar. He would like to try the meat platter, along with some chips, some feta cheese, a Greek salad, and in the end he asked to be surprised with the chef's choice. The waiter kept glancing at Persephone, who was sitting comfortably in her chair, a huge grin on her face, perfectly entertained, while he scribbled what Tom just said. Persie then leaned over the table looking directly into Tom's eyes, and spoke to the waiter never breaking gaze. She spoke quite fast and with a fluency that kind of scared her, but gave her immense joy. She politely asked the waiter to bring the meat platter as he requested, but with some adjustments. Leaning back on the chair, one hand touching the back of the chair, the other lazily going through the catalogue, her posture divided between Tom and the waiter, she ordered practically half the menu, with such speed that it was difficult for Tom to keep track. The waiter smiled, thanked them and went his way.

"What was that about?" Tom asked.

"What was what?" she said, still going through the menu, not breaking a smile.

He sat back on the chair, arms crossed, looking quizzically at her. "You're jealous" he finally said.

"Who me? Of what?" she continued in her mockery tone.

"You're jealous of my excellent and flawless Greek. Oh yes you are" he said moving his head in agreement with his statement.

She kept smiling, going through the menu, not saying a word. There was an electrifying silence among them. They both could feel it, but none said a word; like stubborn children. When the waiter came, he brought a few bottles of coke, some glasses, and a bottle Tom hadn't seen before. "Ok, what is this?" he said taking it and looking at it through the bottle. Persephone was so amused.

"This my dear," she said while filling half their glasses with coke "is what I've been waiting to drink for a very long time." She took the bottle out of his hands. "This is a special kind of white wine, which tastes perfect when mixed with a soda drink. Coke, Sprite" she said as she poured the drink in the glasses, "soda water. It tastes good on its own too, but I like it better this way." She raised her glass to him "To that wonderful, magnificent feeling" she said emphasizing the last adjective "of making fun of you my darling" she couldn't help herself and laughed in his face. He simply exhaled and rolled his eyes at her childish behavior, and laughed it off with her.

He touched her glass with his and said "That's what happens when you learn from the best" and drank his first sip, never breaking eye-contact. She was left speechless, but joined him in drinking. When the alcohol touched her lips, it was as if her senses were waiting for that particular sweet taste, and she involuntary closed her eyes and opened her mouth after the first sip. Tom found that small drop of wine on her hanging lips very arousing and licked his own lips, when he wanted to lick that drop off her lips with his tongue. She took off her sunglasses and put them on top of her head. Tom mimicked her move.

"Wow" she said after a second or two. "I almost forgot I loved you" she said looking at the glass. Tom tasted it as well. He liked the taste; it was quite sweet, but that was the coke making it. It didn't feel it as orgasmic as she was making it look, but he liked it. He would definitely drink some more while here. He enjoyed looking at her and placing her in her natural environment. He tried to imagine her coming up here with friends and be loud and talkative, smiley and playful under the night lights. He smiled at her. She seemed a bit out of the moment, looking at him, but not really seeing him.

"How are you?" he asked. She shook her head coming back to real time and apologized for not listening. "I just asked how you were. Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" she said, taking a sip.

"No" he said, "I am really asking you. How are you?" he looked right into her eyes. She felt her soul uneasy.

She raised her eyebrows in understanding and simply said 'oh'. She stayed silent for a second, and finally said "I'm okay. I'm feeling fine" and smiled shyly.

"Look" he started, bringing himself closer to the table and her, "I know we've been seeing each other for almost a year now…"

Persephone just prayed to all Gods he wouldn't break up with her here. She wouldn't stand having her mother and her entirely family being an audience to her pain, and self-destructive nature. She clenched her fists as her heart dangerously fast, slowed down its beating.

"I mean…" Tom continued "one way or another," his words seemed like daggers though her body. She felt the blood leaving her system. "-you seem to know pretty much all there is about me. I know you can find stuff on the internet and such, and nothing stays hidden once you do a couple of interviews, and all that time we've spend together I can't seem to shut up every time you ask me a question. Are you sure, you're feeling okay? You seem a little pale. I mean, a little more than usual."

"It's just the sun, and all those up hills we walked. What are you trying to say Tom?" she felt her paranoid self slowly taking over her mouth.

"It's just that… you know… sometimes I feel I know nothing about you. I mean, I do-but I really don't." He moved his hands in unison to make his thoughts more graphic.

Persephone felt the blood slowly circulating again on her body and her knuckles relaxing. The confusion was still there, though. "I'm not keeping any secrets, if that's what you're trying to say."

"No, I mean, I literally don't know you as good as you know me, because almost all our conversations somehow end up revolving…. More about me, than you" he said playing with his glass.

She was feeling lost. "Okay…. Is there something in particular you would like to ask me then?" she said raising her eyebrows.

"Yes. And no." _Well, that is confusing_. "I don't know" he finally said. "I feel like asking you every damn question there is, but on the other hand, I feel like I would force it out of you, and make you feel uncomfortable." His eyebrows came together, making the laugh lines around his eyes visible.

"Okay, I know what we can do. If that's how you feel, why don't we reverse the roles a little bit?" she said, and remembered the first time they had this conversation. Only it wasn't as PG as this one would be. She smiled from one side of her face, at the memory. "Let's pretend that you are interviewing me now. You play journalist, I'll play celebrity. I'll try not to be cocky I swear" she teased.

He crooked his head to the side. That wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe getting in the role of the journalist would make this seem like a little game. "Alright" he agreed.

"I don't want this like some kind of fake interview though. You ask, I answer, but don't forget you are also my one-year affair. You have to comment on the things I say" she said convincing more herself than Tom. "You initiate the conversation, but I don't monopolize it. Okay?"

"Yes" he said enthusiastically. He loved games, and she knew that. She prepared herself for really tough questions, so whatever he asked would be a level down in difficulty; like she always did.

"Go ahead, ask me" she said, taking a sip of her glass.

He had a trillion questions in his mind, but at the moment he seemed at loss for words. He looked around. "Have you been to this place before?"

"Yes, I have" she said. "I used to come with my family over the weekend sometimes for lunch, when the weather was good. I also came here a few times with my friend Margaret. But that's just about it."

He felt unease asking the next question, but did it anyway. "Did you have any other friends besides Margaret?"

She bit the inside of her mouth. "I did. But one or two more." She said keeping a straight voice.

"Why?" he genuinely wanted to know. "Back home" he raised his shoulders "you seem to be getting along with almost anybody, and have a lot of friends."

"I have maybe two or three really close friends, as you know. The rest are just people I know and like or admire. I work with a lot of people and meet new every day, but I can't just be friends with everybody-"

"I didn't mean you should be friends with every person you know" he cut her off.

"No, I know what you meant. I'm just trying to explain that talking to people back home and generally socializing, comes very easy to me, contrary to here. I tried many times socializing here, but every time, I would either say the wrong things, or not speak at all. Sometimes I wonder myself how the hell did I survive here."

"What's the deal with you and your parents" he blatted out.

"What do you mean?" she said, touching involtaringly thr back of her ear.

"It's just…. seems weird. It looks like you're treating them as average people and not family… I don't know how else to explain it."

"No…" she forced a smile. "It's just how we are. I told we are a bit of an unconvensional family, rememeber?" she kept forcing her lips to stay curved upwards.

"I do, yes." He scratched his neck. "Look if there's something going on, something that you feel is wrong, or I don't know, anything at all, you tell me okay? Don't keep me in the dark." Her eyes were fixed on the mountains behind him. "Promise?" he asked, as to get back her attention.

"Promise" she smiled quickly. "Nothing is going on though" she added without missing a breath.

"Alright" he smiled back. "And another one. Why is there a locked drawer at you desk?" She looked cofused. "In your room, the last drawer has a lock, and it can't be opened."

"Yes, it has" she simply stated.

"Would you care telling me why you bothered putting a lock on an averag drawer?"

"I am entitled to some secrets, aren't I?"

"Yes, of course you are. As is everybody…. It's just, it seems strange that's all."

"And how do you even know I put a lock on a seemingly average drawer may I ask?" she crossed her arms.

"I was looking for a pen once and tried all you drawers, and that one just wouldn't open. I wasn't snooping around" he almost swore.

She moved her head positively. "Okay, I believe you. I can only say though, that in the drawer there are no drugs or weapons. That's it."

His eyes opened in amazement. "Fair enough" he finally said.

The waiter came with a tray filled with different kinds of food. They thanked him dearly. Tom was speechless. "What the heck did you order? Is all this for us?" he said with eyes wide open, taking in the image of so much food.

Persephone smiled. "Of course I did. Now let me show you. This is fried courgette, this is grilled eggplant, a Greek salad as you ordered, some feta with olive oil and oregano on top, tzatziki salad, this in here is roast potatoes with mushrooms, melted cheese and béchamel on top-"

"Stop stop! I feel like I want to have sex with the food and you simultaneously" he breathed, eyes still wide, fixed at the plates. She laughed and went on.

"Here we have some chips, some grilled bread slices with feta, tomato, olive oil and oregano, and some... um, I don't know how you call it. It's something like pasta rice."

"Holy shit." He exclaimed. "Are these all for us?" he asked her.

"They most certainly are. Now dig in, we have to make room for the rest."

"There's more?" he practically yelled.

"Of course there is." She said like it was the most natural thing on the world. "I'll be damned if we both don't go back 5 kilos heavier." She put a little bit of everything in her plate and started eating.

"Are you crazy woman? We're taking at least 10 kilos here" Persephone shook her head and offered him a bite out of her fork. He took it, and moaned. "Fuck! What is this?"

"This is tzatziki salad." She had some more.

"Wait, do I taste... cucumber, yogurt, and... is that garlic?"

She couldn't stop laughing. "Mmh" she said and fed him another bite.

"Fuck! This is delicious! Why don' you make this at home?"

"Because every time you and I get together at either one's house there's kissing and sex involved. Garlic... just isn't what I want to taste on your mouth or you in mine. "

He helped himself from almost everything on the table. "I guess there'll be no kissing today" he said and took a big mouthful.

"There certainly won't be" she assured him doing the same. "Try spreading it on the bread. Here" she said and offered him a taste of her bread, which he took by opening his mouth and biting it out of her hand. She enjoyed feeding him like that.

"Fuck" was all he uttered every time he took a bite out of anything. She was feeling very pleased and proud. The waiter came again after a few minutes and laid down a big platter filled with cooked meat, in any way anyone could possibly imagine. She smiled, while Tom opened his eyes, and touched his stomach. He seemed like he was agreeing with himself, moving his head up and down. He was thinking that he could definitely pull this whole platter by himself, as he proceeded doing so.

"Fuuuck" he said dragging the vowel slowly with a deep voice, feeling his full stomach with his hand. He sat back on the chair, feeling a tone heavier. "I think I'm going to need a crane to move me from this place now. God, I've never eaten so much so fast. Fuck."

"I feel like I haven't eaten like this for over a hundred years." She said touching her temples. "My mum is going to kill us."

"Why?" he asked taking a sip of his drink.

"I have a slight inclining that she might have... cooked as well?"

"For fuck's sake" he said more to himself.

"Don't worry, I'll call her and say we ate already, and not wait on us."

Tom was eyeing the leftovers on the plates, remembering the divine taste in his mouth, and the fullness of his stomach simultaneously. "Yeah, better do that."

"Maybe I won't have to" she said with a condescending look, and took her phone out of her bag. "Behold the power of the Greek mother" she said and placed it on the table.

"What?" he asked confused. She just motioned with her hand to wait.

Silence. She drank a sip and looked at her watch. Tom was confused. He sat back on the chair. A thousand thoughts were occupying his brain. He wanted to pick up the previous conversation so badly but felt like it wasn't right, now. Somehow the moment had passed. He kept looking around, to the sky, the other tables, and the few people that were sitting around and enjoying their drinks. They were all so plump-faced and red-cheeked; and cheery. They reminded him of people back home around happy hour. As much as Persephone didn't want to admit it, he could always found similarities in their culture. Sure they were completely different people at heart, but the small things made his heart light with joy.

Persephone was looking away at the view. To be honest though, she was actually looking at Tom, and the view behind him. He fitted perfectly with the background. Observing his forehead, she noticed white marks on his sunburned complexion. _Maybe I ought to put more sun cream on that area_. _And urge him to stay away from the sun, _she remarked. She rested her hand idly on her face, feeling dizzy from the heat and the drink. Her mind drifted off to old memories. She made mental notes of phone calls she had to make, and emails to send. A voice coming from the phone broke off her remedy. They both looked at each other. Barely a couple of minutes had passed since they exchanged words, and her mother was calling. She smiled at her ringtone and looked at him with an 'I told you so' look. She picked up and spoke in Greek. Tom loved hearing her speak. Just as she had a soft spot for accents, he had for foreign languages. Persephone touched the bridge of her nose as she apologised over phone. She promised to be home soon and hang up.

"I have to say, that was quiet amazing and frightening at the same time." Tom asked.

"The power of the Greek mother. She was OK about lunch, but we should head back soon. She said something of a surprise and it scared me to be honest."

"I'm sure it's nothing. By the way, we should watch more of that show if we find time. Your ringtone reminded me of it."

She grinned. "So you really like it? You're not just doing me a favour?"

"Darling, of course I liked it. Sure it's a little strange with the paranormal stuff and the devils and the ghosts, but it has character; and very good acting."

She smiled, and wanted so badly to say she loved him. Instead she stayed silent, looking at him. He grabbed her hand across the table. "Should we get the check then?" he said.

_Holy fucking shit._ "Fuck" she murmured. They were standing right behind the door of her house and as she motioned to put the key in the lock, she heard a voice coming from the past.

"What?" Tom asked anxious.

She turned to face him. "There's danger lurking in there."

"I think you are over-reacting to whatever is happening. What is it?"

She exhaled. "One of my most annoying aunts is in there. I can hear the voice. Ugh! It's like Lord Voldemort came back from the dead." She shuddered.

"You are ridiculous" he said turning the key and opening the door. He was met with a big woman, squeezing his shoulders, looking at him right in the eye, and continually kissing him on the cheeks. Persephone cringed a little inside and faked a smile.

"Hello auntie Pitsa! Yes, I'm great thank you! How are you? How is uncle?" she said between breaths trying to get her squeezed body out of her embrace. She felt a panic attack coming on, but inhaled deep from her nose and smiled. She listened to him speaking and his soft voice tricked her mind; for now.

They sat on the sofa, both of them dead tired, as her aunt proceeded to shamelessly ogle them with her eyes and asking inappropriate questions. Being polite, she answered them as best she could, while Tom was trying to figure out what the hell happened. They were talking way too fast for him, and with words and accents he wasn't familiar with. So he just did what he knew how to do best. Took her hand in his palm and kept smiling. Persephone of course would translate for him, because she hated him feeling left out. She knew all too well how that felt. After about five more awkward minutes, she excused themselves saying that they needed to change out of these dirty clothes. She got up and kissed her aunt on the cheeks; twice. Twenty-five years of age and she still felt that, that was a completely unnecessary greeting. Before Tom could mimic her moves, her aunt picked him up and gave him two squishy kisses on both sides of his face. She felt her spine tingling from disgust.

As soon as they climbed down the stairs to their room, she closed the door quickly and locked.

"Phew" she said. "I think we dodged a bullet down there. That could have lasted way longer!"

"I found her very friendly and charming." He smiled.

"Are you fucking with me now?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Well I certainly intend to try" he said leaning on her and kissing her. The shackles she was feeling before under her skin keeping her in place fell at once when he touched her. He was the only person she allowed to come through her glass wall and actually feel the touch of another human being on her skin. She had goosebumps all over her body. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she let her shorter physique drown in his arms. A knock on the door startled them. It was her mother. She was being summoned upstairs to greet more demons of her childhood, as she thought of them.

They both changed quickly, and went to the door. While on the staircase Tom asked her "Was your aunt's name really pizza or am I missing something?"

She laughed, turned around and hugged him. "You are adorable" she said squeezing his cheeks.

"No but really, did someone actually baptise her with this name? Do people give food names to each other?" He was playing dumb of course, but he really wanted to hear her explain her side.

"It's a nickname, you silly. It's a much much shorter version of her name. But yeah, it sounds just like the food. And about the last part, you will find out when I name my daughter tzatziki" she smiled cunningly.

As she turned around to head upstairs he pinched her ass. She liked it. Opening the door and grabbing his hand she whispered "Do that again, and I might just take you up to that castle again only to fuck you in public" before welcoming the neighbours.

A/N: I haven't named the city I'm writing about, because it's fictional. Plus I don't think there is a city with both a castle and a big lake (correct me if I'm wrong though). Also, if you find any typos or spelling/grammar mistakes please point them out, it would really help. Cheers!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4-Good Vibrations

One of the things Persephone was already missing was Mrs. Bunt, her housekeeper. She would come every other weekend around noon, tidy up and do the appropriate cleaning, they would have a coffee together in the kitchen, chat a little bit, and then she would go her way. She liked Mrs. Bunt; she was quick, efficient, and most importantly knew the value of silence, and doing your job in the most placid way possible. She was lying in bed, covering herself with a blanket all the way up to her head, moving in in disbelief and mild anger. It was Saturday morning, the sun brightening the room through the ajar shutters, her mother deciding that 8:30 was the appropriate time to vacuum. Tom as always was up before her and was sitting beside her, checking his phone. Persephone cried through the bed sheets putting her pillow over her head.

"Good morning to you too darling" Tom said one hand on the phone, the other sliding deviously under the covers and pinching her thigh. She nudged him with her leg.

"I want Mrs. Bunt back" she said through the layers in which she had covered herself in.

He laughed. "Come on, it's time to get up sleepy head. You'll miss the day" he shook her hands.

She took the pillow off her head and looked directly at him. He pointed the nearby bathroom with his head.

"No" she said and turned her back to him. "You go and seize the day, I'll just….go back to wonderland for a while. Won't be long; you won't even know I'm gone" she put her knees on her stomach settling in her position, determined to fall asleep again. The noise from the vacuum stopped, but you could clearly hear her mother speaking loudly in Greek to herself, and then coming down the stairs to the basement, still mumbling and scolding herself for forgetting that easy.

"Quick!" Persephone almost jumped. "Get under the covers and pretend you're asleep." She said, took his phone, hid it under the bed, and put a blanket over his head.

"Why are we doing this?" he whispered. They were face to face under the covers, unintentionally holding their breaths. She shushed him with a finger on his mouth. Her eyes were wide open away from his, her sight fixated on the whiteness of the sheet, as if trying to see beyond it. Her mother quietly opened the door and peaked at them. She stood there for a few seconds that seemed millennia, and then left closing the door behind her.

Persephone let out a sign of relief. "Why did we do that exactly?" he asked.

Se rubbed her eyes. "I just I can't have her nagging at me this time of the morning…. I miss having my own space."

"But we are having our own space." Tom remarked. True. The so-called basement they were staying was just a small apartment on the downstairs floor with its own little bathroom, sitting room with a sofa and TV, and a little functioning kitchen. A door leading to the back garden, gave an excellent view of it from their bedroom window. Her grandparents used to live here when they were alive, so it was furnished with all the simple necessities a person or a couple might need. Of course when they both passed away, it became something of a storage room/ guest house/ a second set of TV for anyone who wished some quiet and privacy. Everything was refurbished in a cream palette; from the tapestries on the wall, the floorboards and the furniture, the few plants and the chestnut-brown frames on the walls, they all gave the sense that you were in a place of meditation and peacefulness. Persephone used to spend many nights here with her grandparents telling her stories of their life, and old fairytales. She basically grew up with them. She felt more at home in this small room, than in her bedroom upstairs. Their memories brought a bittersweet smile on her lips.

"Yeah, you're right" she agreed, reminiscing. "Let's stay here for a while. Like this. It's nice…"

He was puzzled. "Alright." He made himself comfortable under the covers. They stayed like this, just looking at each other; she had a piece of his t-shirt entwined in-between her fingers, while he was caressing her hair. "Do you have a problem with your mother?" he finally asked.

She felt that hitting a spot. "No more than certain people have daddy issues" she said quite quickly. It sounded like it was rehearsed.

"Are you trying to tell me something here?" he asked, clearly irritated.

She put her eyes down in shame. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything with that. It came out the wrong way." She looked at him again. He was staring her with disbelief. She bit her lip. She wanted to touch her ear, but couldn't reach it, which made her more uncomfortable. She wanted to say that he wasn't attacking him or accusing him of anything, but words failed her. Licking her lips, she simply said "You have pillow marks on your face."

He closed his eyes and exhaled a smile. This was a moment between them, and he felt he should take advantage of it. "Why are you not telling me though?" he took a lock of hair out of her forehead.

"No Tom. Just…. let this one go." She felt her heart tighten.

"Darling, you are so secretive. Isn't it time you let this guard down? I'm not going to judge you or like you any less."

"It doesn't feel right; not now at least. I promise I'll tell you."

He sighed and stroked her cheek. "Should we get up now?"

She buried her face in the pillow. "Ugh! Yeah, I guess we probably should."

"Come on lazy head" he pulled the covers off them with one move.

"That was borderline barbaric" she cried bringing her knees to her chest. He was already up and threw his pillow on her face. He had a huge grin on his face.

Never missing a second, she threw it back at him, kneeling on the bed. "Nice reflexes" he teased her and threw it back.

"Is this how we're gonna do it then?" she hit him with her pillow. Her shorts had come up just a few more inches, making Tom unable to take his sight out of them. He stood motionless, his head crooked on the side, his nostrils open, his eyes leering on her. She bit her lip, staring at him. Her breasts from inside her shirt were bouncing slowly up and down in unison with her breathing. He could see the outline of her chest along with her nipples very clearly. They were both turned on. She moved towards him, still kneeling on the mattress. He threw the pillow beside her angrily, and grabbed her waist. She let go of her pillow on the floor, as he brought their bodies together, kissing her fiercely. His hands were gripping her waist, while her fingers were clenched on his hair. They both moved their lips vigorously, as if they were lovers reunited after the war. He moaned in her mouth, as she bit his lower lip. Switching, he took her lower lip on his mouth, pressing his palms on her behind. A noise made them break off the kiss.

She turned her head at the window, and saw her father exiting the small shed they had at the end of the garden, with some tools on his hands. She pressed her head on his chest, catching her breath.

"Fuck" he said.

"That was pretty intense" she agreed. Looking up at him, she planted a lot of small kisses on his cheeks, around and on the lips. "Let's go get some breakfast" she smiled.

"Excellent idea" he smiled back, smacking her rear. She bit her lip, and got out of the bed. Pretending to fix her hair, she smacked him right back and ran in the bathroom. He chuckled. "Seems like I owe you one" he said outside the bathroom door.

They were sitting on the balcony over the garden, enjoying their breakfast. Her mother wanted to prepare for them a proper table, but they didn't want to distract her off her chores. They put on a tray what they needed and sat on the baboon chairs under the tent. Her town being uphill meant a cooler weather with light breezes, and less heat, something they enjoyed greatly. They walked barefoot on the balcony, a bad habit which they both relished.

"Such a lovely morning" he exclaimed taking a deep breath.

"Would you like me to prepare you a slice of bread with marmalade while you make coffee?" she asked, jar in her hand.

"I would be delighted, thanks love." They each proceeded making each other's breakfast; she was spreading butter and jam on the bread, he was mixing sugar and coffee in cups. Their hands danced in unison above the table, humming songs.

"Sing something" she encouraged him.

Without missing a bit he started tapping his foot on the floor to give rhythm. He drove his head slowly from left to right, and his right shoulder up and down. At first, he sounded more like breathing words, rather than singing them. All she could distinguish was the word 'baby'. "_Baby, oh yeah… I_ _need…."_ While stirring his cup, he gradually raised the tone of his voice, from whispering to humming. "_And baby, I can't hold it much longer, it's getting stronger and stronger, and when I get that feeling, I want sexual healing, sexual healing baby."_

She burst into laughter, dropping the knife on the plate. He continued humming, which caused her laugh even more hysterically, grabbing her stomach. "Stop, stop! You're giving me a six-pack right now!" He had his head down, stirring his cup, still humming and smiling. "Oh my God that is hysterical!" she laughed.

"Do you find something funny about my song?" he asked, poker-faced.

"No" she said, wiping her eyes for possible tears. "I wasn't expecting that so early in the morning."

"I have another one in mind if you want" he said passing her, her coffee.

"Oh do you, now?" She asked in disbelief. He agreed. "Ok, let's hear it."

He cleared his throat, and started rocking his body left and right, snapping his fingers, his head low and his lips pursed. _"Mmmm…." _He started, taking long pauses. "_I've been really tryin' baby, tryin' to hold back these feelings for so long." _She put her hand on her face and chuckled. He continued undisturbed. "_And if you feel, like I feel baby, come on, oh come on, let's get it on, let's get it on."_

"When I meant another song, I didn't mean another Marvin Gaye song. I meant….." she couldn't go on. She just laughed and got up to sit on his lap. She gave him a few pecks on the lips, and caressed his hair.

"Does this mean you approve of my songs?" he smiled cunningly.

"Yes…and no" she said, sitting back on her chair. "I was expecting more PG to be honest." She took a bite out of her bread.

Never breaking that smile, he picked up the slice of bread, put it in-between his fingers and started singing again "_I believe in miracles, where are you from? You sexy thing!" _to that piece of bread.

She put both her hands on her face and lowered her head, while he continued singing. "You're unteachable, you really are." she finally said.

"I simple can't be tamed darling" he said and took a bite out of the bread, making crunchy noises with his mouth.

She had no idea what gotten into him, but it was immensely entertaining. "Give me another one" she said after a couple of minutes.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll take my chances, sir."

Tilting his head upwards he started thinking, while she was crunching her breakfast, taking much pleasure looking at his thinking face. He seemed at a disagreement with himself, moving his head negatively every now and then. Suddenly he raised his head, happy with himself and started again on his ritual of body-moving and finger-snapping. "_Come on swing it Come on swing it Come on swing it. It's such a good vibration, it's such a sweet sensation."_

She smiled at his choice of song and started moving her body. He went on rapping the next part, while she was really getting into it "_Come on, come on, feel it, feel it, feel the vibration," _when she broke into signing herself "_It's such a good vibration, it's such a sweet sensation, it's such a good vibration, it's such a sweet sensation" _as he clapped her the rhythm. They both sang that last part two or three times before stopping and applauding themselves. She felt joyous.

Her mother was at the door, watching them laughing. "I hope I didn't wake you up before. I completely forgot you are staying downstairs." she said trying to initiate conversation.

Speaking to her in Greek, Persephone told her it was ok, she didn't wake them. "Why did you turn off the radio?" her mother asked.

"Oh no ma 'm," Tom said "there was no radio here. We were just singing." He announced proudly.

"You have a beautiful voice dear" she complimented him.

"Couldn't do it without your daughter though" he gestured at Persephone.

"Persephone doesn't sing" she said all too sure.

He was caught off guard. They both looked at her. She felt uneasy. Narrowing her eyes in the distance she said "do you smell that?" at which her mother quickly paced to the kitchen to make sure everything was in order.

She continued eating, looking away. She felt Tom staring at her. "I promised, another time. Remember?" she said without looking at him. Her heart felt heavy with sadness. "So, we're seeing Margaret today" she changed the subject."We agreed yesterday to meet at a café near the lake, but we can go up to the castle again if you want."

"It's okay with me. Wherever you want to go, I'm sure it'll be fine." He sipped from his coffee. He sounded bitter, but he didn't like secrets; particularly between them after such a long time.

"So, what do you want to do today?" she asked him, feeling completely worthless keeping things from him.

"I don't know."

Silence. "Look," she started "I know this is bullshit. And I'm sorry. But…I don't feel like talking now." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She wante to say it. But couldn't. "There's nothing serious going on. But I'm not going to do this in here; too many ears."

He seemed confused. "No one can understand you in English."

She smiled. "I'm the daughter of a cop. There are eyes and ears everywhere. Trust me on that." She sipped some more of her coffee.

After the brisk summery shower had abated, Persephone, Tom and her friend Margaret sat on the red chairs of a café next to the lakeshore. The pavements were still wet, water ponds had formed in the side of the roads, and the air was windy and musky. Some tree leaves from the pinewoods had fallen down, some on the puddles, some in the middle of the streets forming various patterns. The sky had just started clearing out, so there was a mixture of mauve, grey and blue above them. They were all shocked by this sudden outcome of the weather and could not stop commenting on that. Margaret was complaining that if this keeps up, it will definitely ruin her marriage plans. Margaret had quite the Mediterranean character; bronzed skin, long wavy reddish brown hair, big hazel eyes, friendly smile, and always eager to help. Her trademark was the countless bracelets gracing her wrists, which Persie always admired.

Upon sitting down, Persephone squeezed Margaret's hands over the table never breaking her smile, not quite believing she was seeing her friend after all this time. She had sidelined Tom for the time being, while trying to take in all the new information her friend was giving her. They spoke half in Greek, half in English, so Tom could comment whenever he felt like it. He was mostly observing though. The way Persie's hands were gripping on her friends', both of their bodies leaning in on the table, smiling and talking fast and enthusiastically. Persie felt like a detached piece was slowly coming onto place. Tom was still mesmerized by the hues of purple in the sky so he had his gaze mostly up there, while his girl's melodic voice was providing a soundtrack to this image.

While Tom was away daydreaming ideas of them, Persie was feverishly engaged into marriage matters with her friend. Margaret was marrying Dimitri, her boyfriend of three years now. They both laughed at their past selves; shy little girls who knew more about fictional worlds than the one living in. Their conversation went back to their college says, when absolutely nothing happened. No alcohol, no drugs, no boys, just the two of them under one roof, with loads of pizza and DVDs. They were reliving their teenage years without parents, and that was good enough for them. No one ever had high expectation of them, but they both proved the world wrong; Margaret just got herself a job at a university in the history department, while Persie was a production assistant; somewhere where all her pop culture knowledge was relevant. Persie asked about Dimitri, Margaret asked about Tom.

Through half smiles and giggles they both commented on the men who stole their hearts. Margaret of course was no stranger to Tom's identity, and always peeked at him from time to time. He would just smile politely, trying to understand what their discussion was about. Margaret was dying to know more about their relationship, and what it felt like to date a celebrity, but Persie reassured her that there is nothing exciting happening. They were actually a very mundane couple. Flashes of inappropriate images between her and Tom came to mind and she turned her eyes towards him, fondling his hand.

Before taking their separate ways, Margaret handed her the wedding invitations, which she held onto till their meeting today, as planned. Tom embraced her and kissed her cheek goodbye, feeling very glad she finally got to meet her. The friends embraced with a promise to see each other again for at least two or three times before they would head back to London. Walking away, Tom took Persie's hand and kissed it.

"Do you want to go for a short walk around the lakeshore before heading back?" she asked.

"I'd love to" he smiled.

Walking between paved streets and water, Tom would look around and admire at the architecture of the buildings; how the old was coexisting with the new all in a mixed palette of colours; he had his eyes on dark red building that reflected on the water, which happened to be a very old and abandoned church building. Combined with the blue of the lake and the shadowy sky, the whole scenery gave off a somewhat sense of wonder and mystery. Persephone as always, was trying to place herself again in this particular time and place. She had this weird impulse of always wanting to put herself in a place, like a mark on a map. Or like a green diamond above her head, like it happened on the Sims.

They were enjoying the serenity between them, when Tom stopped. "Everything alright?" she asked idly.

"Do you ever think of marriage?" It seemed so sudden of him to ask that.

Persephone was caught off guard. She didn't know how to feel about that, let alone how to respond. So she just stayed there motionless, quizzically staring at him.

"Didn't you as a girl fantasize about your wedding day? You know the dress, the husband, the cake, the flower decorations, everything that would make this your day. Your own perfect day? Did you ever think about that?"

"Why are you asking me this now?" Somewhere deep inside that brain of hers, a small and fuzzy image of a kneeling Tom bothered her, and she blacked it out, putting it in the 'not now' files of her mind.

He raised his shoulders. "I don't know… you were talking about it just now with Margaret and you both seemed so enthusiastic and vigorous about it. And we've never actually talked about it." He crooked his head to the side.

She looked down at her shoes and the wet pavement. Then up to him, smiling. "I can't lie to you" she said. "I have."

"And….?" He motioned his hand to her to go on.

"What? You want me to take out the list and start reading it out loud to you?" she teased him.

"So you have a list" he said more confirming, less asking.

"No, I don't have a list! It's a figure of speech. Anyway, why are you asking me this out of the blue? Is it because we saw Margaret?"

"I just realized I'd never asked you that." He said, offering back his hands to hers.

They continued walking. "Have you thought about it?" she asked quickly.

"I may have."

"Now who's the cryptic!" she raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm not cryptic! We just don't talk about that stuff."

"We?" she mocked him.

"Men."

"Come on Hiddleston spill the beans! I know you have details somewhere in there!" she pretended punching him with her fist.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours" he said with a scheming smile.

He was using her favourite phrase. "Touché."

"Come on tell me! I'm dying to know!" he pleaded.

She touched her ear, considering a deal. "Ok. But we do this my way. I'll tell you one thing on my list, and then you tell me one of yours. How's that?"

Without missing a bit he said "I've always wanted to have the ceremony outdoors. You know, in a beach or out in the country."

She was impressed. "That was fast. Ok then. Promise you won't laugh."

"Cross my heart" he gestured his hand on his chest.

"Ok" she breathed. "I know this might sound silly, but I've always had this image in my head that I'll wake up one day in an old hotel room, you know bed creaking, decorations since World Word I, and I'd see a dress picked out for me, with a card on it saying time and place. It would be a little church at the top of a green mountain or rocky hill of an island, and there he would expect me. And we'd get married. Plain and simple. Just the two of us." She felt strange sharing this. One part of her felt relieved someone knew this, but the other scolded her for trusting this information out loud.

He was silent. He slowed down his pace, and after a few steps he stopped. She felt anxious. "This is beautiful" he looked right into her eyes.

"Don't tease me" she looked down.

He put his thumb under her chin and looked at her. "I'm not" his voice sounded calm and sweet, like the atmosphere around them. He kissed her. She was still his little hopeless romantic/control freak he fell for a year ago.


End file.
